


Not Just Another Slow Dance

by chasethewind



Series: 10 Fics in 10 Days [8]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, F/M, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Slow Dancing, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 03:12:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5568658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasethewind/pseuds/chasethewind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Based on the movie Emily was in "Brooklyn". Not sure if you've seen it but in one scene Emily shows up at a Church dance and becomes the prettiest girl there but she seems unimpressed with the guys although she does dance when she keeps getting asked. In that scene I kept thinking it would have been awesome if Oliver/SA showed up and BAMN!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Just Another Slow Dance

She sighed. The only reason she had come to this gala was because her friend Sara had asked her to. Neither one of them wanted to spend Christmas Eve alone, so they dressed in their most opulent gowns, did their hair and makeup, and called for an expensive limo to take them to the Starling Grand for the Queen's Christmas Ball. How Sara snagged an invite, Felicity would never know. She was usually tasked to hack into these events to put their name on the list, but this time, there was no illegal activity to speak of.

They arrived together with Sara in a stunning short black Elie Saab floral embroidered lace and knit dress that had stretch lace shoulders and sleeves, a fitted waist, and a pretty rhinestone crusted belt that accentuated everything. Felicity had chosen a stunning scarlet colored Michael Kors sleeveless cutout gown with a jewel neckline and cutouts at the chest and waist. In her favorite pair of peep-toe Louboutin stilettos, the dress barely skimmed the ground, which was perfect for dancing, if anyone asked her to. Felicity wasn't rich by any means, she just knew how to bargain shop.

Now, standing on the edge of the dance floor, she stared at the couples waltzing across the antique oak. Sara had disappeared hours ago, melding into the crowd and leaving Felicity by herself. Several men had asked her to dance; some young, some old, mostly douche bags she wished would keep their hands to themselves. There had been a few decent ones that respected the distance she kept, but none had really caught her eye. Tommy Merlyn hadn't been so bad, but he was engaged to Sara's sister, Laurel, and therefore off the market. Why he'd danced with her, Felicity had no clue. It was nice though.

Merlyn had been inquisitive, asking her how she'd gotten into such an exclusive party when he'd never heard of her before, whether or not she was single, and if she'd ever met the Queens before. Felicity had given him one-word answers before the song ended and his curiosity got them both in trouble. She quickly fled, hiding in the bathroom for several minutes before peeking her head out to see if he'd followed her. With the coast clear, she returned to the ballroom and stood on the outskirts of the polished wood floor near the bar.

A drink was in order, preferably a stiff one that could help combat her nerves and maybe give her a little more liquid courage to keep dancing and not flee the scene without Sara. As the bartender mixed her a whiskey sour, Felicity's eyes scanned the opulent room before the crowd parted and she spotted probably the most handsome man she'd ever seen. He had short, dirty blonde hair, the jaw of a Roman god peppered with rough dusting of stubble, and eyes that look like they'd been cut from sapphires. His smile, which she could tell was fake because the people surrounding him, still dimpled his cheeks and when he turned to look at her, she could feel her heart stop in her chest.

Felicity forgot about her drink, forgot about Sara, forgot about the gala in general. Her focus was on the man now intently staring at her, his head tilted slightly as he excused himself from the crowd around him and made his way toward her. Paralyzed by fear and curiosity, she stood there and waited until he came up right beside her. Distance had proven him to be much taller than she expected, at least six foot, with broad shoulders, narrow hips, and hands that could easily fit around her waist.

Why Felicity was even thinking about that, she couldn't tell you. But she could tell you he smelled like heaven: sandalwood, amber, lavender, and a musk unique to him. She'd gotten a whiff of plenty of men that evening, but so far, the one standing before her now made the blood in her veins burn like lava. Then he smiled a genuine smile and his entire face lit up, making her heart skip a beat. God, he was even more beautiful, and for the first time in a really long time, Felicity lost her voice.

"Hi," he said, his voice low and gravelly, but still able to travel to her ears over the sound of the orchestra playing on the other side of the room. He extended his hand and added, "I'm Oliver Queen. I don't believe I've seen you at one of my family's parties before."

"H-hi," she stuttered, taking his hand. Felicity expected a soft shake but ended up with his lips against the back of her hand as he leaned down, his eyes never leaving hers, and kissed it. The tickle of his whiskers against her smooth flesh had goosebumps sprouting up her arm. "Felicity… Smoak."

She couldn't believe the man before her was part of the family that put on this gala. Of course she'd heard of Oliver Queen. He'd been in the tabloids ever since she was in high school. His bad behavior had netted him countless covers and the bad boy persona made him the most appealing man her friends had ever discussed. So had the fact that he'd been lost at sea for five years before being found. But seeing him here, standing before her, Felicity could tell something about him had changed. He didn't seem conceited or superficial. He seemed more reserved and thoughtful.

"Can I have this dance?" Oliver asked, knocking her out of her musings.

"Yes," Felicity replied, giving him a warm smile before he pulled her away from the bar, her drink forgotten, and onto the dance floor where all the other couples were slowly gliding across the polished oak. A new song had begun to play, a little slower than the ones that preceded it, a little more romantic.

They kept a respectable distance at first, their arms apart in a proper waltz position, but soon Felicity found herself drifting closer. She couldn't stop herself. It was as if Oliver had a magnetic pull on her. The longer they danced together, the closer she got. They were chest to chest when she realized just how close she had come to him. Her arms had a mind of their own, wrapping around his neck as his hands slowly slid down her waist until they came to rest on her hips, pulling her even closer.

"Is it strange that I just met you and yet I don't want to let you go?" Oliver whispered into her ear as the song ended. While the couples around them dispersed, they remained plastered together, content with the non-existent distance between them and the stillness that came with the quiet room.

Felicity leaned back just slightly to look at him. Those intense sapphire eyes were focused on her again, and while she could barely breathe, the answer still fell from her lips. "No," she murmured with a slight shake of her head, her blonde curls swishing across her back. She didn't want to let go either. If she could stay like this in his arms all night, she would.

The low hum of the room gave way to clear voices. Somewhere nearby, Tommy Merlyn spoke, the surprise evident in his voice. "But Oliver Queen doesn't dance. I've known him all my life, and the only time he's ever danced with anyone was when his mother forced us to take lessons. That's it," he said.

"There's a first time for everything," a familiar voice replied. It sounded like Sara, only the pitch was slightly higher.

"Then stay," Oliver pulled her out of the other conversation as he leaned closer, until their foreheads and noses touched. "Dance with me all night. Don't let me go."

"I won't," Felicity whispered back. And she didn't. She stayed with Oliver throughout the night, slow dancing even after her shoes made her feet go numb. She kicked them off and stood on his toes for the rest of the evening, until the crowd had dwindled to just a handful of people and the band played their final song for the last two people on the dance floor.

"Will I ever see you again?" Oliver softly asked as the song came to a slow and winding end.

"Maybe," Felicity replied, giving him a coy smile.

His hand came up to cradle her cheek as a warm smile spread across his lips. "How about dinner tomorrow night?"

"I would like that," she said. Felicity began to pull away, but was stopped when his hand caught her wrist, gently twirling her back until they were facing each other again.

"Table Salt at seven," Oliver replied. There was a hint of mischief in his eyes, a sparkle she'd caught a glimpse of earlier that night when they first met. He seemed… happy.

"I'll see you then," Felicity answered. She was about to turn and walk away, but she didn't want to leave just yet. Instead, she paused for a moment, contemplating whether or not her next move was a good idea before deciding to throw caution to the wind.

Turning, she stood on the tips of her toes and leaned forward until her lips fell against his. The kiss was softer than she intended, but it still conveyed just how grateful and excited she was to have met him. And when he kissed back, his lips glided over hers, pressing their mouths together for just a few moments longer. Oliver didn't want to let go anymore than she did, but Felicity had to leave. She'd already stayed well past midnight and it was getting late. Besides, she'd see him again tomorrow.

Forcing herself to pull away, Felicity gazed up at him, a rosy flush to her cheeks quickly spreading down her neck. "Good night, Oliver," she whispered.

"Good night, Felicity," he whispered back.

Then she was gone, grabbing her shoes and purse from where she'd left them under a table and sprinting out of the ballroom toward the lobby where she hailed a cab and headed home. Sara would have a barrage of questions once she stepped into their shared apartment, but Felicity didn't care. She couldn't thank her friend enough for dragging her to this gala.

Meeting Oliver had been the highlight of her night and she couldn't wait until dinner the following evening. This was a turning point in her life. Felicity could feel it down to her bones. The excitement of figuring out where life would take her next beat wildly in her chest as she climbed out of the cab and ran upstairs.


End file.
